You've Got The Music In You
by wildfire280
Summary: Finally finished with McKinley High and determined to spend as much time as possible with those they love before they're pulled in different directions, Mercedes and Kurt begin to find their way from out of Rachel Berry's shadow.
1. Kurt: The Wrong Dream

_Raising his anxious gaze from the choir room floor, Kurt swallowed and gave a slight nod. "So who's first?" He glanced at Rachel, then his step-brother, already knowing who was going to take the lead. _

_ "I'll go first," Finn responded as expected. "I've got a good feeling about it." Rachel's face lost a little bit of her nervous expression and she bobbed her head up and down firmly, smiling at Kurt. He kept his eyes trained on Finn as the taller boy extended his hand to lift the plain white envelope from The Actor's Studio. _

_ His attention snapped to Rachel when she suddenly spoke. "No matter what happens…we're all here for each other." _

_ Finn smiled warily and opened the envelope. Rachel crossed over to stand by Kurt. Finn slowly scanned the opening paragraph of the letter; his eyes clouded as the message became clear. He didn't look up from the words as he quietly said, "I didn't get in." _

_ Kurt and Rachel looked at him in shock. Slowly, Kurt's eyes closed. It wasn't the dream he had thought Finn would pursue. If he had to be honest, the night of Finn's unexpected confession to Rachel that he wanted to be an actor, Kurt had asked him during dinner whatever happened to his dream of being a drummer in a band or even joining the army. Finn had almost looked excited about joining Puck in Los Angeles for a minute there before he remembered Rachel's existence. Still, if going to New York and studying at The Actor's Studio while making a life with Rachel was his step-brother's dream, Kurt had wanted it to work. But it hadn't worked. _

_ Rachel quickly went to her fiancée's side, stroking his arm reassuringly. "It's okay."_

_ It wasn't reassuring. Finn looked lost. "Please somebody else just open theirs." _

_ "I'll go next," Kurt murmured, taking his own envelope from the stack. He almost ripped the letter, it was opened so fast. He only read six words, and those six words told him all he needed to know: __**Thank you for your interest but**__. "I didn't get in." His gaze lifted to focus somewhere above the top edge of the paper he clutched in his fingers. "I didn't get in." _

_ "Kurt, I'm so sorry." Rachel came over to look at the letter but he had already rolled it in his hands. _

_ Finn placed a hand on his shoulder. "Your turn, Rachel."_

_ Kurt glanced up at Finn as Rachel stepped away from them with her letter, allowing the taller boy to hug him closer to his side. When had this year turned into what it had? He wasn't Senior Class President. He hadn't played Tony in West Side Story. And now he wasn't going to New York. He wasn't attending NYADA. He had lost so much precious time that could have been spent with Blaine. He'd practically disowned Mercedes as his best friend for the majority of the year. And now what would happen? _

_ He turned some of his attention towards Rachel as she perused her NYADA letter. She turned around and searched their eyes for a moment before speaking. "I got in." _

_ One of Kurt's eyebrows twitched upwards and he blinked. Hard. She got in. _

_ Of course she did._

Mercedes handed Kurt a steaming cup of Earl Grey tea and then took her place next to him on her bed, their backs supported by several pillows propped up against the headboard. "So…let me get this straight. You audition for the dean of NYADA; she praises the fact that you made a risky song choice, and says that your performance would have made Hugh Jackson proud. Rachel Berry auditions for the dean of NYADA, chokes twice, stalks the dean when it's clear she's been rejected, and…she got in?"

He nodded, taking a long sip. Mercedes frowned. "What the hell?"

Kurt sighed and picked up the remote that lay on the nightstand on his side. "I really thought I had it, 'Cedes. Carmen Tibideaux doesn't compliment people. She makes people cry. But she said she liked my performance and I thought…I thought I was in."

"You were amazing on that stage. You're always amazing when you sing." A small smile appeared on the diva's face, and she nudged him in the side playfully. "Except for that one time sophomore year when you blew a high F."

Kurt gave a low chuckle. "It was for a really good cause."

"True. And I know you would do anything for Papa Burt. I just wish you hadn't blown the chance to sing a solo at Sectionals and you _know_ he felt the same way." Mercedes searched her friend's face and then reached over to take the remote from him, turning off the television and shifting her body to face him completely. "So what are you going to do, Kurt? You could probably stalk Carmen Tibideaux until she changes her mind."

"No, I'm done with NYADA. I want to spend this summer with you and Blaine and Dad." Kurt gave another quiet sigh. "People I've been neglecting all year."

"And after the summer? What then?"

"I'll go with you to Los Angeles and become your own personal fashion designer. You'll be the best dressed backup singer there."

Mercedes leaned forward after rolling her eyes. "See that's it right there."

"That's _what_ right there?"

"Your dream! The one thing you've always wanted to do! Kurt Hummel, I'm gonna be honest with you right now. I don't know where this whole going-to-Broadway-with-Berry dream came from. You've really wanted two things since I first met you: to sing a solo and to dress people. What happened to that?"

"…Rachel?"

"_Rachel Berry_." Mercedes shook her head. "Sometimes…do you feel like we're just…props for her? It's kind of what Tina was talking about before Nationals, right? We get nothing. She gets everything she wants."

"You mean it's like we're set up to fail because Rachel's always supposed to be on top." Mercedes nodded. Kurt crossed his legs on the bed and took another sip of his tea. "Nah. That'd be absurd. Besides, you got a recording contract. Quinn's got Yale. Mike's going to study in Chicago at the freaking Joffrey Ballet Academy. Santana got that full scholarship to the University of Louisville. Blaine and I are ridiculously happy together. You and Sam are madly in love. Some things worked out just fine."

Mercedes smiled, thinking back to Sam's beaming face as the juniors had sang to the graduating seniors that past week. Artie had given a weird speech on how it was dedicated to Finn because it was such a sacrifice for him to be in glee club (Mercedes had shared an incredulous look with Quinn then. It seemed to her that of all of the football boys who had "sacrificed" their reputation for the club, Puck had given up the most.) None of the juniors were really singing for Finn. Before Sam had even gotten up from his seat, he'd whispered to her behind Santana's back, "This one's for you, baby." His eyes had been trained on her almost the entire time, a smile never completely leaving his face.

" 'Cedes?"

Mercedes blinked and focused on Kurt's face. "Yeah?"

"No daydreaming about your golden Adonis tonight. I'm having a crisis."

She patted his leg. "You had a minor setback, Kurt. I'd love you to be with me in Los Angeles but I think we both know that you need to follow your own dreams. Go to New York. The best fashion schools in the country are in New York City."

He placed his drink on the nightstand and tilted his head back until it was against the headboard. "Blaine still wants me go. As much as he hated the fact that all I've been talking about since Ms. Pillsbury told us about NYADA is auditions and New York…he wants me go if that's where I want to be. Rachel's even talking about waiting for Finn and me to get in so we can all go together."

Mercedes couldn't keep the cynicism from showing on her face. "…What?"

"Yeah, she offered to stay behind in Lima and help us perfect our auditions so we could…"

"_Your_ audition skills are fine. She's the one who choked." Mercedes held up a perfectly manicured finger to pause herself before she said something she would regret about Rachel Berry. "Follow your dreams, whatever they are and wherever they are. I'll support you all the way."

"Really? All the way?"

Mercedes snorted. "I supported you when Rachel suddenly became your favorite diva, didn't I?"

Kurt scrunched up his nose, narrowing his eyes. "Oh she could _never_." He grasped both of her hands in one of his own. "I'm sorry I made you feel as though you could ever be replaced, Mercedes."

She smiled with a small shrug. "You can make it up to me by never becoming somebody's prop."

"Agreed. But you have to promise you won't sing backup forever."

Mercedes pursed her lips in a sassy grin before nodding. "Oh, this job is just the start. I'm getting that Grammy."

The two friends high-fived and then settled back to have a much needed Disney marathon.

**Special thanks to mzsj for the correction! **


	2. Change Is Gonna Come

**Author's Note: **Welp, this took a lot longer to write than I expected. This one's heavy on Kurt/Sam interaction with Samcedes and a little teeny bit of Mertina. I guess the Rachel shade could be counted as a bonus. Enjoy and review on where _you_ think the story should go!

_Rachel looked sadly out of the train window at the glee club yelling farewell to her; Mercedes couldn't stop beaming. Actually, except for Finn's, there wasn't a melancholy face to be seen. Now that was telling. For a moment, her smile fell as she looked at the tall boy. Rachel and Finn had a relationship that she never quite understood. Impulsive. Absolutely unhealthy most of the time. Predictable. But maybe it was the predictability of their relationship that had kept Mercedes from ever questioning them. It never crossed her mind that Rachel and Finn weren't meant to be together. Besides, the night that Sam had left with his family for a fresh start in Kentucky and Mercedes had cried in her mother's arms, her mother told her that you couldn't help who you fall in love with. So Mercedes stopped questioning who was meant to be together and who were better off apart. Part of her almost empathized with Rachel and Finn's journey to each other. She could relate to that. The larger part of her however just thanked God that she and Sam could never be as annoying._

_ Her smile returned as the group realized that Rachel's train would be pulling out any moment. She waved, glanced up at Sam standing next to her, and moved to stand even closer to him, her hands clasped to her chest. Noticing her movement from the corner of his eye, he reached out an arm to go across her shoulders. Sam's green eyes sparkled at her in the bright sunlight. "Seems kind of stupid. We're doing the most right now and she's only going for the weekend." _

_ Mercedes' laugh was short but loud. She tried to keep her voice low. "Does that mean we have to come back out here and do the same thing at the end of summer?"_

_ "Nah. We'll go to the movies instead."_

_ "Or you could help me pack." _

_ Sam's eyes darkened and darted from Rachel to Mercedes' face quickly. By the time he looked back at Rachel, they had regained their usual twinkle. The train began moving slowly, and he extended both arms to give the girl double thumbs up. Mercedes nudged him in the side as his arm settled back around her. "Are we going to talk about it soon?"_

_ He pecked the top of her head with a sad smile. "Not yet." _

_ Fair enough. She stood on her tip-toes to quickly peck him on the mouth, letting out a squeal when he suddenly decided to deepen the kiss._

_ "Wow, Samcedes. You spend all year considerate of how we might feel watching you two suck face but now that the hobbit is gone…"_

_ Ignoring Sam's loud groan as she started to pull away, Mercedes flushed and turned to Santana. The taller Latina winked at Sam. He simply rolled his eyes at her. "Don't be jealous, 'Tana. It's about time we got some attention. And you'd better get used to me being all up on my Mercy 'cause this summer is our summer of love."_

_ Both girls blinked up at him. Santana sighed. "You have game. You lose game. Jones…fix him." She sent a withering glance in the direction of Finn who was walking back toward the group dejectedly after running alongside the train for a while, took Brittany by the hand, and led her girlfriend back toward her car._

_ Sam looked down at his girlfriend, shrugging innocently when he saw that she was still staring at him. "What?"_

"What are we watching?"

Sam glanced over his shoulder from his seat on the Hummel-Hudson's couch and raised a blonde eyebrow when Kurt sank down in Burt's arm chair. "Um…I was just watching the NBA playoffs…Oklahoma City Thunder versus the San Antonio Spurs." He lifted the remote beside him. "Want me to change the channel? I know you're not really into…"

"No, no, it's fine. It's fine. Carry on."

"Cool." Sam turned his attention back to the television.

Kurt didn't even bother to look interested in the game, choosing instead to analyze the ceiling absently before clearing his throat. "So Mercedes says that you refuse to talk about Los Angeles."

A cloud passed over Sam's face but he didn't turn. "I'm not refusing to talk about Los Angeles. It seems like a wonderful place and I can't wait for her to make her mark there. I refuse to talk about her _leaving_ for Los Angeles before we have to. At this point, we don't have to." His gaze flicked over to Kurt. "I'm sure you can relate."

"Well…_sure_, I can relate. But Blaine and I talked about what happens if…_when_ I leave Lima. It was a hard conversation but it was best to get it over with. And now that it's out of the way, we can enjoy the time we have together without it being the elephant in the room."

"I'm just not ready to talk about it. The conversation will happen. But not yet." Sam smiled warily. "But hey, it's nice that you and Mercy are talking like you used to. She missed having you around."

Kurt nodded, twisting in the arm chair so that he could bring his legs up underneath himself. "I missed her too. And I may not have been around as much as I should have this past year but I'd like to think that I still know Mercedes. The longer you hold off on talking about it, the more she's gonna think that you're trying to avoid breaking it off with her until she leaves."

This time Sam turned sharply and held Kurt's gaze like a vice. "I don't plan on breaking up with Mercy when she goes to LA. I'm not losing her again."

"You know, that's exactly what Finn kept saying about Rachel."

It had been a week since they'd seen Rachel off at the train station and everyone at the house was still trying to be sensitive to Finn, watching him trudge in and out of rooms and trying to engage him in conversation only to receive a shrug or sigh in response. Sam shook his head. "No offense meant to them but Finn and Rachel's relationship was a freaking roller coaster. I admit I didn't pay much attention to them and half of the time that they sang I had to pretend to care long enough to clap but Quinn and Mercy told me that those two split like every year for one reason or another. Just doesn't seem…"

"Particularly healthy?"

"Worth mentioning. So hey, let's stop mentioning them." Sam turned back to the television with a shrug. "It never made sense to me anyway, all the attention they got in glee club. I mean, the first time I saw you guys perform was false advertising. Great song. Awesome raps. An amazingly talented girl front and center." He grinned at the sound of Kurt's gasp. "Too soon for Rachel shade?"

"Boy, what do _you_ know about shade?"

A smile lit up Sam's face before he even turned to see who had entered the family room. Ruffling Kurt's perfect hair as she passed, Mercedes came to sit on the arm of the couch. Sam scooted closer to her so he could grasp her hand. "I thought you were going to the movies with Tina today."

"Yeah, that was the plan. We decided to get coffee before the movie and ended up talking at The Lima Bean for three hours."

"And what were you two ladies talking about for three hours?" He gave her a gentle tug to bring her down to sit beside him.

Mercedes glanced at the television screen as the game's score was displayed, frowned at what she read, and snuggled into Sam's side. "Mostly we talked about next year. She's going to be a leader in glee club along with you and Artie and _hopefully_ Brittany…" Her eyebrows rose at the sound of Sam's chuckling. "What?"

"Just the thought of new leaders in the glee club. It's nice but I can't imagine it actually happening. Are you sure Mr. Schue won't find a way to Skype Rachel into rehearsals so she can still have all the solos?" He let out a short bark of laughter as his girlfriend's elbow firmly connected with his side.

Kurt leaned his head back, sighing. "Sad that we had to go for you to get a chance to shine…but things _will_ be different. Think of the competitions."

Mercedes nodded her agreement. "Tina would _kill_ a competition solo."

Sam harrumphed and lowered his chin to rest on top of her head. "_You_ would have killed a competition solo. Same goes for you, Kurt. False advertising."

"What does advertising have to do with anything?"

Kurt shared a knowing grin with Sam, straightening his legs from on top of the arm chair and standing gracefully. "I'll let you explain that one, Blondie. I'm off."

Mercedes raised an eyebrow. "Off where? This is _your_ house."

"I'm going over to Puck's."

Her eyes widened and she leaned out of her position against Sam to properly stare at Kurt. "…Say again?"

"Oh, don't look so surprised. Puck wants me to look over some decorating ideas for his apartment in LA."

The expression on Sam's face now matched Mercedes'. "…Is this some sort of joke? We're talking about the same Puck, right?"

"Yes Sam."

"Noah Puckerman?"

"There's only one Puck!" Kurt scanned the room briefly for his car keys before walking over to grab them from beside the television. "He found out that-and these are his words _not_ mine-'chicks dig a man with style' and his place has to look 'classy and shit'. I assume this information came from one of those depraved women he cleans pools for."

"Hey!" Mercedes frowned. "Noah cleans _our_ pool."

Kurt pursed his lips. "Oh yes, Mercedes, I'm _sure_ it was your mother." She glared at him, and he playfully returned it. "Bye!"

"Bye!"

Sam gave a little wave, shaking his head in disbelief while Kurt disappeared into the garage. "I…I still don't get it."

Mercedes laughed, and they resumed their snuggling. "And that is okay. I'm not sure there _is_ something to get. Puck's always full of surprises." She tilted her face upward so she could plant a kiss on his jawline. "Just like you."

"I'll have you know that there are more differences than similarities between me and the Puckster, lady."

"One of these differences being…?"

Sam's jaw dropped in mock hurt for a moment before he quickly pulled her to straddle his lap. He waited for Mercedes' laughter to subside before responding, "One of those differences being that I get to keep you."

"Lucky you."

He nuzzled her nose with a grin. "Lucky me."


	3. Mercedes: Make It Happen

**Author's Note: **So this chapter addresses two lil' issues I had with S3 of Glee. First, the fact that Rachel Berry was suddenly everyone's friend even when it made absolutely no sense (Exhibit B: Pezberry). Second, the fact that, according to canon, Mercedes Jones had no family at graduation. So I tried to fix it. As always, enjoy the Rachel shade.

_"And maybe since you're also aspiring to make your dreams come true in New York City, we should look for housing together. We could share an apartment or even…" Rachel's voice trailed off into a murmur as she noticed Santana holding up a hand. _

_ The other girl glanced at Mercedes who was walking on the other side of her but Mercedes' lips were tightly pursed in an attempt to keep any and all comments to herself. Santana clicked her tongue against her teeth. "I don't mean to be rude, Hobbit…"_

_ "Yeah you do." Mercedes raised an eyebrow when Santana turned toward her, daring her to disagree._

_ Santana shrugged. "Okay. Yeah I do." She led them a few feet further down the hallway to her locker and jerked its door open with a firm tug. "What do you see in there? Or rather, what don't you see?"_

_ Rachel stepped tentatively toward the locker to peer inside. Mercedes sighed and stood with Santana, lowering her voice to a whisper. "You're so wrong for this." Santana chuckled._

_ "Santana?" Rachel turned around with a confused frown. "Where's my picture? I thought you put my picture up in your locker. During Whitney week, remember? You said you'd miss me and I said I loved singing with you. And we decided to be friends."_

_ "About that. Berry, does it ever bother you that our friendship this year makes no sense?"_

_ Rachel blinked. "…What? I…I don't understand. Of course it makes sense!"_

_ Leaning back against her locker after pushing it closed, Santana tapped a finger to her chin. "See I don't feel that way. I mean, sure I appreciate the fact that you defended me when Coleman decided to be a dick after your boyfriend Pastry Bag decided to out me and yeah, it was a pleasant surprise that you could sound halfway decent singing Whitney-sorry to bring up the sore subject, Wheezy-but other than that…I can't stand you." She shrugged. "Being nice to you just makes me feel like I'm acting out of character."_

_ "But…!" Rachel's eyes were narrowing as she searched Santana's face for insincerity which, in her mind, was the only explanation. "After we sang, we hugged! And it was a very genuine moment!"_

_ "It was awkward and I was trying to get away from you. I smiled to keep from crying at the contact." Santana looked to Mercedes, rolling her eyes when Mercedes just looked right back. When she turned back to Rachel, her face was a picture of compassion. "We graduate tomorrow and I don't want us to leave McKinley with you thinking that I would ever voluntarily spend time with you. I like to keep things real and I just can't do that to you, Man-Hands." _

_ Mercedes watched Rachel's mouth open and close silently before placing a hand on her back. "Probably best to walk away now."_

_ "Uh…yeah." Rachel jerked her head up and down. "Yeah. I'm just going to find…I'll see you two in glee club. I…FINN!" She turned on her heel and walked briskly down the hallway. _

_ "Was that necessary?" _

_ Santana smiled broadly, looping her arm through Mercedes' as they continued their walk to the cafeteria. "I don't know. Was it necessary for you and Sam to get your mack on in the choir room last week?"_

_ Mercedes reached across her body to smack Santana gently on the shoulder. "We didn't think you'd all come in when you did!"_

_ "Oh I bet you didn't."_

_ "Whatever. Back to the point, would it really be so bad if you ended up with Rachel Berry in New York City?" Santana gave her a pointed look and she grinned. "But that's still where you want to go isn't it?"_

_ Santana's face became serious as she gave an uncharacteristically downtrodden sigh. "I should want to go to Kentucky. Get my foot in the door like Coach says. It's a great opportunity, I'll get to meet the right people, blah, blah, blah."_

_ Mercedes frowned. "You should want to follow your dreams. If that's New York, then New York is where you should be." _

_ Her friend let out a humorless bark of a laugh. "Follow my dreams. Right. There's no way mi madre is going for that. She's so excited about the scholarship. Not that I'll be using it. I already told her that I was staying here with Brittany."_

_ "Oh hell no!" Mercedes tugged her to a stop just inside the cafeteria doors. "Are you serious? You'd stay here in Lima?"_

_ "Better this stupid town than Kentucky!" Santana's face twisted in disgust. "It's Kentucky, Wheezy." _

_ "Mama Lopez is the nicest, most understanding woman I've ever met, 'Tana. If you tell her that your dreams are in New York…"_

_ "What, you think she'll support me? Like Papa Jones did you?" Mercedes' eyes widened slightly before lowering to the floor. Santana sighed again, her voice losing the sudden bite it had taken on. "Sorry. I know how much it's killing you that he's not okay with you going to LA."_

_ Mercedes glanced toward the table that the New Directions usually occupied, a sad smile on her face as she spotted Sam. "I keep hoping I can make him see how important this is to me. How it's not unreasonable and I'm not being unrealistic. I'm being signed. I'm being heard."_

_ "Maybe at Graduation you can..."_

_ "Maybe not." Mercedes began walking to the lunch line, the usual pep in her step slightly diminished. "As far as I know…he's won't be attending." _

"You're not fooling anyone, you know. I know exactly why you're acting this way."

Robert frowned at his wife, hands stilling in the middle of pulling back the comforter and sheets of their bed. "I'm acting this way because I'm tired and I'm ready to go to sleep." She gave an infuriatingly knowing smirk and he sighed. "Alright now, what's that look for?

Cynthia Jones made her way over to sit on her side of the bed. Her hands lifted to pat the rollers in her hair. "You're fighting Mercedes on this move to Los Angeles. That girl has a dream and you're standing in her way."

"Oh _I'm_ standing in her way." Robert scoffed and got in between the sheets. "Last I checked, that girl had already bought her plane ticket. She's working on getting an apartment out there. Doesn't look like anything's getting in the way to me."

"She thinks you don't believe in her, Robert. It's killing her inside. If you don't believe me, look at your child's face whenever she talks about the move. She's always looking to you, waiting for you to tell her that it's okay. That she can go and do what she needs to do." Cynthia leaned back against the pillows propped up behind her, shifting her body to face him. "She _needs_ your support. And you're withholding it from her just because you're too proud."

He raised his eyebrows. "Too proud?"

"Yes. Too proud, you stubborn man. Too proud to admit that you don't want your baby girl to go thousands of miles away from home. All by herself and without her daddy to take care of her."

Robert was silent for a moment, eyes narrowing in thought as he processed his wife's words. Finally, he spoke, his voice low. "So what am I supposed to do? Tell her that I'm okay with all of this? She's got a YouTube video and a contract with some people we've never met and don't know if we can trust. And I'm supposed to get behind that?"

"What you're _supposed_ to do is tell your daughter your concerns instead of making her feel like she's not good enough for her dreams to come true."

"I never…!" He was hushed by Cynthia's sharp look, sighing and getting out of the bed again. "I'll be back."

Mercedes was in the bathroom brushing her teeth; she rinsed and spit once she saw her father standing in the doorway, a hesitant smile coming across her face. "Hey Daddy."

He leaned against the doorway, sticking his hands in the pockets of his pajama bottoms. "You're going to bed a lot earlier than usual, baby girl. I like it. You should make it a habit."

"I'm just trying to get ready now instead of after Sam calls. But don't worry. We'll try to keep the conversation short this time." She tapped her toothbrush and laid it on its side.

Robert held up a hand as she started to go past him. "One second. I want to talk to you about something."

"…Okay." Mercedes stepped back and folded her arms below her chest. "What's up?"

"This California thing you've got your heart set on doing...it's something you really want?"

If there was one thing her father never wanted to talk about, it was her move to California. No topic shut down any and all dinner table conversation quicker. She placed a hand on the bathroom counter, anxiously curling and uncurling her fingers. "Yes. It's something I want." Mercedes searched her father's face with a hope-filled gaze. "I know you don't approve. And I know that there's a chance everything will fall through and I'll have to admit that it was an unrealistic dream but…"

"No." Her eyes widened slightly; Robert took a step forward. "Forget I said anything about it being unrealistic. I was wrong. Anything you dream can be a reality. Baby girl, I don't doubt that you _can_ make it happen way out there; I just…" He reached out his hands to grasp her shoulders, looking down at her with furrowed brows. "I just wish you could make it happen a little closer to home, that's all. I'm sorry if I ever made you feel like it couldn't be done."

The smile that lit up his daughter's face was almost blindingly happy, and she was in his arms in the blink of an eye, squeezing him tightly around his middle. "Thank you, Daddy. You don't know how much it means to hear you say that."

He returned her embrace warmly. "This is your time. Make it happen."

"And you're supporting me? You're okay with me going to California now?"

"Not completely." Robert chuckled at Mercedes' quiet groan. "But I'm sure between your mother and yourself trying to convince me, I'll change my mind." He glanced over his shoulder at the sound of her cellphone ringing. "Am I hearing things or is _I'm In Love with a Stripper_ playing in your bedroom?"

She gasped and moved past him. "That's Sam."

"But why that song?" He frowned at the lack of response to his question, listening to her answer the phone. "Really. Why that song?"

"Robert." Cynthia flicked the hallway light off, the smirk back on her lips as she stood just outside of the master bedroom. "Let's go to bed."

"But why is her ringtone for that boy _that_ song?"

"Don't worry about it, sweetheart." She took his hand and pecked him on the cheek. "Let's just go to bed."

**Leave me a review!**


	4. Team Player

**Author's Note: **This chapter goes off of reid4infinity2's suggestion that Tina's actions in "Props" be addressed and gives a mini-look at dinner in the Hummel-Hudson home. Enjoy!

_"Gah, I pricked my thumb!" Grimacing, Rory inspected his sore appendage for blood. _

_ Sugar was more than happy to use the opportunity to set down the fabric she had been-admittedly failing at-stitching together. "Okay. Costume committee sucks." She looked across the table at Tina who was continuing to work, expressionless. "Why do we have to all the work?" _

_ Joe propped his cheek up on the palm of his head, dismally staring down at the sewing machine in front of him. "Quinn says it's because we're the newbies and we've gotta pay our dues."_

_ "Whatever. It's ridiculous that the seniors treat us like plebes. I mean, this is Rachel Berry's dress right?" She held up the corner that she'd been working on. "She should sew it herself."_

_ Tina stilled her hands and took a quiet breath. "Rachel's probably practicing her songs right now. Over and over again, until her vocal cords bleed. And none of us would be going to Chicago if not for her commitment to glee club so show some respect."_

_ "While we're acting like shrubbery in the background?"_

_ The older girl leaned forward. "Put in the work. Be a good team player and you'll get your solos. And maybe it'll be as a part of a group that won Nationals." _

_ "Kurt and Blaine told me you took a little tumble at the mall yesterday. You must have hit your head a lot harder than they thought if you're starting to believe that crap." They all turned toward the doorway. Mercedes kept her eyes trained on Tina even as she addressed everyone in the room. "How are you guys doing in here? I came to lend a hand."_

_ Clapping her hands together, Sugar quickly stood to give Mercedes a hug. "Thank God. I have no idea what I'm doing." She threw a pointed look over her shoulder at Tina. "Or why I'm doing it."_

_ Tina kept her eyes lowered to the cloth in her hands. "I was just telling them how to get ahead in glee club, 'Cedes."_

_ "Ah. Rachel Berry Ass Kissing 101." She sent a wink over at Rory who was staring at her with a dopey smile. "I failed that course a long time ago." Having spent the last two years as the chief costume designer for New Directions performances, Mercedes began silently showing Sugar how to correct what she had done wrong. _

_ Joe raised his face from its resting place in his hand and frowned. "Wait a minute. You're a senior, Mercedes. And you never get the solo. But you've put a ton of work into glee club." _

_ Mercedes let out a dry chuckle. "I know. Ain't that a bitch?" She raised her gaze to meet Tina's. "Apparently I haven't put as much work into it as Rachel Berry or I'd be 'further ahead'." _

_ "I wasn't trying to say…!"_

_ "You didn't have to try to say it, Tina girl. That's something Mr. Schue has been telling us all year. Hell, sometimes I think we've been telling that lie to ourselves. Trying to make ourselves feel like there's a good reason why we never get to shine." Mercedes tilted her head to the side, shaking it slightly. "But there's not a good reason. I deserve to shine. You deserve to shine. Joe, Rory, Sugar…they all deserve to shine. That's the truth. We need to stop acting like Rachel Berry is our savior or something."_

_ Sugar pumped her fist up and down. "Yeah! Go Jesus!" _

_ Rory side-eyed the girl for a moment before asking, "So what do we do to get Schue's attention? We can't all quit and form our own group like you did."_

_ Tina nodded. "And even without Rachel being here at McKinley next year…you know there's bound to be someone else that he'll give all the solos to."_

_ Her enthusiasm suddenly gone, Sugar murmured, "Forever shrubbery."_

_ Mercedes patted the younger girl's back comfortingly. "No, not forever shrubbery. You never stop fighting for that chance to show everyone that you're a star. You don't give up. Never, ever give up." The smile she gave Tina was so affectionate she just had to return the gesture, smiling for the first time in that entire day._

"…But then sometimes I think maybe I should call her or something. Just to check up on her, you know? I think she would answer. I mean, Rachel was pretty bummed when she left for New York but I don't think she hates me or anything. I should've told her where we were going. Then she wouldn't have been so pumped about getting married when we left her house. We could've talked the whole way to the train station about our feelings and stuff. Maybe I shouldn't have sprung it on her like I did. Rachel always said that I act without really talking things over with her. But she would've tried to change my mind. And it was for the best. This break is for the best." Finn reached out to grab his glass of root beer, sighing before taking a long sip.

The rest of the table sat silent. Carol shared a wide-eyed look with Burt; Kurt was glancing around at everyone else as though wondering what had just happened. Sam was the first to break the silence, leaning back in his chair and nodding to himself. "Well…I definitely want _those_ five minutes of my life back."

Burt let out a chuckle which was quickly adjusted to sound as though he were clearing his throat. He smiled uncertainly at his step-son. "Um Finn, I just asked how your day was. I didn't…"

"Oh." Finn flushed red and shrugged. "It was an okay day. Can't complain."

"Good to hear." He stared at him a moment longer with a frown before turning to Kurt. "And your day…?"

Kurt lowered his fork to settle on the edge of his plate, taking care to wipe the corners of his mouth with his napkin before answering. "I went to the mall with Quinn and 'Cedes."

"And I was _not_ invited," Sam muttered.

"You wouldn't have liked it anyway. Quinn demanded that we stop by Victoria's Secret and get Mercedes some new…clothes for LA. We were in there for at least an hour."

Sam's jaw dropped. "My girlfriend spent an _hour_ in Victoria's Secret trying on lingerie and you don't think I would've _liked_ it?"

Burt cleared his throat once more, effectively ending the impending-and awkward-argument. Kurt rolled his eyes. "Anyway, the girls helped me come to an important decision."

Carol raised an eyebrow and spooned more green bean casserole onto her plate. "Which was?"

"I'm going to apply to FIT. I'll be asking all of you for suggestions on what I should include in my portfolio." His excited expression fell slightly at the puzzled expression on his father's face. "The Fashion Institute of Technology in New York, Dad. It's a fashion school."

"_Oh_." Burt shrugged. "Designing clothes and stuff. I like it. Sounds like a good fit for you, son. Congrats."

"Thanks, Dad."

Finn frowned in confusion. "I thought you were going to try to audition for NYADA again. You don't want to go there anymore?"

"I don't think NYADA's the place for me. I mean, they let Rachel take my place even after she choked during that audition."

Sam lifted a hand to cover his face. "Oh no, please don't mention her. _Please_ don't."

"Just because Rachel wanted it a little more than you…"

Kurt held up his hand, eyes narrowing at his step-brother. "Stop right there, Finn Hudson. Rachel didn't _want_ it more than me. She _whined_ about it more than me. So she got in. And you'll never convince me that Carmen didn't admit her just because she wanted her to shut up."

"That's not fair, Kurt!"

"What part of _any_ of what happened was fair?"

Finn crossed his arms against his chest; the two step-brothers glared at each other from across the table. "I just don't get why everyone's always ragging on Rachel. She doesn't get things because people like her. She works harder. Even Mercedes…" His voice trailed off at the sudden sound of Sam's chair being scooted back.

The other boy leaned forward; both of his hands gripped the table's edge. "See what happens if you finish that sentence, Hudson."

Carol sighed. "We used to have such nice family dinners." Burt nodded his agreement, reaching for the basket of rolls.

Finn raised his hands defensively. "I'm just saying."

"Yeah, I'm 'just saying' too, man. Badmouth my lady; get hit."

"Alright. Calm it down, you two. Testosterone overload." Kurt waited until Sam slowly relaxed back into his chair. "To answer your question again, Finn, no, I'm not reapplying to NYADA. And no, it's not just because Rachel got what I wanted. It's about time I have a dream all to myself. And FIT is something I really want. I think it's something...I've always really wanted. I got sidetracked this past year somehow..."

"I think_ I_ know how."

Grinning, Kurt shook his head at Sam and then continued. "But this is my dream. And I'm gonna get it. It's about time."

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	5. A Bit Of Perspective

**Author's Note: **Here's a Kurt-centric chapter. It's a bit heavier than the others but I hope you all still like it. Leave reviews and let me know what other Season 3 issues with Kurt or Mercedes you'd like addressed!

_The gray-haired woman's eyebrows rose at the sight of the eclectic bunch of teenagers in front of her. A blonde boy stood beside the short black girl who had asked for directions to David Karofsky's room; he almost seemed like he was drinking in the sight of her, gripping the Edible Arrangement tightly in his arms. There was an emotion in his eyes that she couldn't quite place. Regret? On the other side of the girl was the most immaculately coiffed boy she had ever seen. Not a single brown hair was out of place; she couldn't see a single wrinkle in his clothes. But he was staring down at the floor as though extremely uncomfortable. Ah well. Hospitals caused that reaction in some people. A lanky boy with olive skin and long dark dreads stood with his hands on the back of a wheelchair; the girl sitting in the wheelchair had such a graceful air around her that the bitter expression on her face took the nurse aback. _

_ Her entire observation of the group only taking a couple seconds at most, she inclined her head forward. "Friends of Dave's?"_

_ "Yes ma'am," Mercedes responded with a solemn smile. "We'd like to visit him if that's alright."_

_ No, it wasn't alright. Kurt's hands were at his sides, clenching into fists. None of it was alright. The afternoon of the God Squad meeting when Mercedes had invited him along to visit Karofsky, at least twenty minutes after everyone else had left glee club rehearsal later that day, he had sat on the risers, shoulders shaking, chest heaving, sobbing at the unfairness, the guilt. Mercedes had come in during the worst of his crying-she'd came back to grab her purse from under her seat-and she had held him. And she had whispered to him that everything happened for a reason. And that Karofsky was going to be fine. And that he shouldn't blame himself because it wasn't his fault that Karofsky had tried to hang himself. _

_ Kurt had sat there and listened to her reassuring words. And he was convinced that she was lying._

_ Who else could be blamed? It was him who hadn't answered any of Karofsky's calls. It was him who had flippantly dismissed Karofsky's desire to be close to him. There was once a time when Kurt had wished with all of his heart for someone to reach out to him. Tell him that he wasn't alone. Assure him that things would get better. Mercedes had been the first person to do that, and then Blaine had come into his life and confirmed it. But when the opportunity had come for Kurt to pay it forward and do the same for someone else, he had turned away. _

_ He was brought out of his thoughts with the light pressure of Mercedes' small soft hand sliding into his own. She gave it a squeeze. "Come on. His room is this way."_

_ Joe stepped from behind Quinn to frown at him concernedly. "You okay, Kurt? You're looking a little pale."_

_ Oh great. The panicking showed. Kurt shook his head, stopped the movement, and then nodded. "I'm fine." Mercedes peered up at his face. "Really."_

_ "Okay." Hand-in-hand, they led the way down the hospital corridor._

_ Karofsky's door was ajar; from the hallway, they could see his father's legs from where he sat facing the television hanging up on the wall, the foot of the hospital bed, and hear voices. Kurt frowned. That wasn't Mr. Karofsky speaking with him._

_ Sam shifted the Edible Arrangement in his arms so he could knock on the door. Mr. Karofsky leaned forward so that he could see who was there; he stood to his feet when he saw Kurt. Mercedes was first to step inside. "Hi, Mr. Karofsky. Is Dave up for…?" She cocked her head to the side at the sight of the boy already sitting by David Karofsky's side. "Hi."_

_ David's father ushered the rest of them to come in. "Look who's here, Dave."_

_ "All the people from McKinley who hated me?" Karofsky shook his head and chuckled softly. "That was a joke. Hey guys."_

_ They all walked closer to the bed, their hesitant expressions gradually disappearing. Sam set the arrangement on the small table at the corner of the room near the bed. "We brought food." _

_ "Great. Thanks." Karofsky's smile faltered as his gaze landed on Kurt and stayed there. "Thank you for coming by." _

_ "You're welcome," Kurt responded quietly. He took a step forward, feeling rather than seeing everyone's eyes on him as though they were expecting him to take the lead in this. "Um…how are you feeling?"_

_ "I've been better." Karofsky glanced at his father before continuing. "But physically, I'm fine now. They're just…monitoring me now." There was an uncomfortable silence that filled the room for a moment as he and Kurt just regarded each other. Finally, Karofsky extended a hand toward his other visitor. "Oh right. This is Nick Dorchester. You guys probably know him. He plays basketball at McKinley."_

_ "Hey, yeah, I've seen you around." Sam shook his hand. The other four just nodded with faux recognition. _

_ Nick gave a welcoming smile. "Pull up a few chairs. Stay a while."_

_ Sam immediately grabbed a nearby chair for Mercedes; Kurt took a step back. "I'll just wait outside…if that's okay."_

_ Mercedes turned sharply toward him. "Kurt…?"_

_ He bit his lower lip and spoke directly to Karofsky. "I'm glad it didn't work; I'm glad you're still here. I'm…really, really glad you're still here." Kurt turned and walked out of the room, Mercedes calling his name after him._

"No." Kurt took a step forward in the line at The Lima Bean, tilting his head to the side until his cellphone was pressed between his cheek and shoulder and taking out his wallet from the Marc Jacobs messenger bag. His eyes narrowed as he glared at nothing in particular. "No. No, no, no, no, no-and to quote a certain diva-_hell_ to the no."

On the other line, Noah Puckerman had the audacity to sigh, and Kurt's eyes narrowed. "Come on, Hummel, it adds character."

"Adding _character_ to a room is choosing to make a statement with the colors of the walls or mounting a piece of unexpectedly beautiful art," Kurt said, speaking behind clenched teeth and lowering his glare to the floor. "Adding character is _not_ putting up pictures of naked women."

"The Greeks did lots of decorating with naked chicks."

Absently noticing that there was space in front of him in the line, Kurt took another few steps forward, decidedly not noticing that he was then standing at the counter. "Don't you dare cite the ancient Greeks as your inspiration, Puckerman."

"It's valid!"

"No, it's vulgar. And if you think I'm going to let you ruin the impeccable design I have put all this time and effort in for your stupid LA apartment, you've got another thing coming!" Kurt jerked the phone away from his ear and abruptly ended in the call. "Idiot."

"A little harsh don't you think?"

Cheeks instantly turning red, he slowly came to notice that the barista was staring at him with a somewhat stunned expression and that there was a boy his age leaning casually against the counter while waiting for his own order. Kurt slowly lowered his phone into his bag; the barista followed the motion with her gaze. "Welcome to the Lima Bean. What can I get for you today?"

"Grande nonfat mocha….please." He smiled apologetically as he handed her his credit card and paid, immediately shuffling out of the line when she handed back his receipt.

The boy standing there grinned. "Kurt Hummel. How's the summer been treating you so far?"

Kurt took in his handsome facial features for a brief moment before returning the grin. "It's been interesting to say the least….Nick, right?"

"You've got it." One of the other barista's placed his order up on the counter; Kurt watched Nick extend a toned, slightly tanned arm. Curse him for being undeniable proof that physical activity did the body good. Kurt could almost hear Santana dryly request that he stop drooling.

No one talked about Dave Karofsky at McKinley since that day at the hospital, not even members of the glee club. It was almost as though everyone believed that if Karofsky wasn't mentioned, the realization that one of their own had tried to end his life would never have to fully sink in, Finn wouldn't owe Santana a legitimate apology for outing her in a crowded hallway, and it could all be forgotten. Life goes on. After all, there was graduation and life after graduation to plan for. Or not plan for.

When his attention finally returned to Nick, the other boy was holding out his mocha to him. Kurt flushed and took it from him. "Sorry. Wow…I completely zoned out just then."

Nick gave an understanding nod. "Got a lot on your mind?"

"I've got almost _too_ much on my mind."

Glancing over his shoulder and quickly seeing an empty table near a window, Nick took a sip of his own coffee before motioning for Kurt to follow. "I've got time. Care to share?"

"Uh…sure. Why not?" Kurt took a step forward but paused at the sound of his phone vibrating in his messenger bag. That was probably Blaine. After a moment of inner floundering, he took it out and scanned the text while going to sit on the other side of the small table across from Nick.

Nick took in the way Kurt's eyebrows were furrowing and cleared his throat. "If this is a bad time for you..."

"No!" Kurt sent a quick reply, again putting his phone away. Perhaps it was intentional the way he buried it deep down in his bag so that he wouldn't hear it vibrate. He scooted his chair closer to the table. "I mean…no, it's not a bad time. I was meeting Blaine in a half hour but he's been held up. I'm all yours. Well, not _yours_. Obviously, I'm _his_. He's my boyfriend." Rambling now? Kurt hid his reddening face by lifting his mocha to his lips with both hands.

If Nick was suffering from second-hand embarrassment, he didn't show it. "I saw you two together around school a lot this past year. He's from Dalton, yeah? Seems like a downgrade coming from a school like that to go to McKinley. I remember their basketball team handed our asses to us a couple years ago." Kurt gave a noncommittal grunt as he lowered his cup, having trouble remembering anything athletics-related at Dalton Academy. "But I guess he probably came to be closer to you and to be in your glee club."

"Blaine certainly has an…important role in the New Directions."

"So he gets all of your solos?" Kurt's eyes widened, and Nick chuckled. "Just an outsider's observation. Sorry if that's me starting something." He folded his arms and leaned forward to have them rest on top of the table. "That girl in glee club that you never hear much from…it would have been nice to hear her sing more before we all graduated."

"Which one? Tina? She's still there?"

"Nah. I don't even know her name. She graduated with us though. Prettiest one in the bunch if you ask me."

Kurt sighed. "Quinn Fabray? Santana Lopez?" Of course it would be the ones that boys were always fawning over.

"Not them…last I checked she was dating that kid that transferred back into McKinley from Tennessee or Kentucky or…"

"Mercedes Jones?"

Nick nodded with a broad smile. "Mercedes Jones. That's her. You know, my older brother graduated from McKinley our freshman year. He was pretty quiet, didn't have many friends, no one knew he was gay. He came out to our parents after she sang that Aguilera song in the pep rally."

"_Beautiful_?"

"Yeah. But I don't think he would've felt confident enough to tell Mom and Dad who he was if he hadn't seen first how _you_ carried yourself after coming out at McKinley."

Kurt turned back to him sharply from glancing out of the window large window beside them. "Me?"

"What, you didn't know you were an inspiration?" Nick asked teasingly.

"I…I've never seen myself as one." Kurt shrugged. "I try to be there for people but let's face it, I kind of failed when it most counted."

"Dave mentions you almost every time we talk. He doesn't blame you for any of what happened, you know."

Kurt stared at him for a moment before raising an eyebrow. "You're really perceptive."

"It's a gift. You really should visit him though. Dave's at a new school now. It's a lot better than McKinley or that hellhole he was in. Probably because he's being honest about himself there. And hey, if you talk to him, maybe he could shut up about you."

"Mercedes organized that whole visit at the hospital. I just came in for a few seconds and went right back out the door."

"Hey man, he appreciated that you came at all. Showed you cared about him. He needed all the support he could get then." Nick watched Kurt shrug once more and silently stare at his cup. "You've really been beating yourself up about those missed calls, haven't you? He said you probably were. I told him there was no way you thought it was your fault. But you think it was."

"I should have answered my phone."

"Yeah. I guess you should have. But there was a lot going wrong for Dave at the time and any one of those things could've broken him. Point is, he doesn't blame you. He's moving on from it; you should to. Come on, man, there's life after high school. Am I right?"

Kurt couldn't help but return the reassuring smile that Nick gave him. "Yeah…you're right."

"I'm off to study Economics at the University of Chicago. What're you up to in the fall?"

Not NYADA. Arbitrarily tracing imaginary designs into the side of his Lima Bean cup with his fingertips, Kurt shrugged. "FIT?"

"Really? You don't sound sure." Nick lifted his elbow onto the table and settled his jaw on his closed fist. "The Fashion Institute of New York has never struck me as somewhere to be unsure about."

He was the first straight guy to know what FIT was without prompting. Again, Kurt stared at Nick in not-so hidden awe. "I hope I'll get in. Honestly, I need a lot of input on what to put into my portfolio before I ship it off to Admissions there. I…" He blinked rapidly and gave another shrug. "I hope I get in."

Nick grunted, draining the last of his coffee. "If you want it bad enough…"

Kurt shook his head firmly. "Something tells me that there's always going to be someone better than me or someone who wants it more than me."

"I guess that's true." Nick's smile turned rueful. "Sorry. I'm not going to be much help in this department. I know next to nothing about getting into fashion schools or putting together design portfolios. Definitely not my skill set. But hey, if there's anyone who can make FIT happen for themselves, it's you, right?"

"Yeah." Kurt sighed and reached out for a napkin to wipe up a drop of mocha that had fallen on the table. "Right."

"Have some confidence, Hummel. You think it's a small thing to be the first openly gay kid at McKinley High? Joining a club that no one else wanted to join? I even remember you being the kicker in the football game freshman year." The other boy stood from the table and pushed his chair in. "Something tells me you're gonna be just fine."

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